Rose squeezed up beside Dimitri, which wasn’t easy on the narrow path. “We’re looking for a friend of ours,” she said. “We think she’s staying with you.”

After assessing Rose and Dimitri, the dhampir woman nodded congenially at Sydney and then turned downright hostile when she looked me over. “And him? What’s he looking for?”

“The girl we’re looking for is my friend too,” I said, surprised at her reaction. “I told her sister I’d find her.”

Our hostess looked skeptical, and I wondered what was up with that. I’d think it was dhampir solidarity, except that she’d seemed fine with Sydney. Probably the woman had seen Sydney’s lily tattoo and assumed she was doing some routine Alchemist visit. That still didn’t explain my cold welcome. “What’s your friend’s name?” the woman asked.

“Olive Sinclair,” I replied.

Immediately, a look of distaste filled the woman’s eyes, but it was clearly in regard to me, not Olive. “So you’re the one who got her in trouble.”

“The one who . . .” The meaning became clear, and I found myself blushing—something I’d maybe done twice in my life. “What? No! Of course not. I mean, if I did, I’d never—that is—I’m not the kind of guy who—”

“No,” said Dimitri bluntly. “Adrian’s not responsible. His intentions are honorable here. I’ll vouch for him. I’m Dimitri Belikov. This is Rose Hathaway, Sydney Ivashkov.”

Normally, a human introduced with a royal Moroi last name would have warranted a double take. But it was clear this woman never heard anything past Rose and Dimitri’s names. I saw it clearly in her eyes: the same awe and worship I’d observed in so many other faces whenever this dynamic duo introduced itself. And like that, the woman turned from fiercely protective doorkeeper to swooning fangirl.

“Omigod,” she gushed. “I thought you looked familiar! I’ve seen your pictures! I should’ve known right away! I’m so embarrassed. Come on, come on. I’m Mallory, by the way. Let’s not stand around in the woods! You must have done a lot of traveling to get here. Come rest. Get something to eat. Omigod.”

We followed her down the narrow trail, which eventually opened up to a huge clearing in the forest. It turned out Wild Pine really was kind of a cross between a camp and a resort. Actually, it kind of reminded me of a Wild West town after all. I could totally picture a shoot-out happening. Nice-looking cabins were arranged in orderly rows and seemed to be divided into business and residential areas. Dhampirs, almost entirely women and children, moved about their business, some pausing to give us speculative looks. Mallory led us toward a large cabin that was situated between the business and residential areas, bouncing with each step she took.